About Face
by Duel Mistress K
Summary: (Pre-Armada) You all know the drill... Last chapter has been posted, sorry if this story seems to move along fairly quickly... Language warning. *~COMPLETED!!~*
1. Waking Up

DMK: ... this is a first... okay, ever wonder WHY Red's left arm is the way it is? I read his bio on the Hasbro site and it mentioned him getting 'severely wounded'... so, I'm sorta filling in that explanation. And, be warned, this is WAY before the series, just as the Minicons are beginning to be used as weapons, meaning... Red-Alert is young. Like, Sideswipe young. And probably just as much a juvie delinquient. But hey! At the end of this he's gonna be the Red you know and love! ^___^ And on another note, I apologize if some of the language isn't to your liking... but you have to remember that here, they're all young, and in summer school we've been reading 'Black Hawk Down'... so I got a bit of the war elements from that. ^^''

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Chapter One

Knock knock knock!

"Yo Red, get up!" A youthful voice called from the other side of the door. "Time for some Decepticon bashing!"

The sleeping mech inside groaned and turned onto his side, his back facing the door. The knocking persisted, and in response, he shifted onto his stomach and buried his head into his arms. That's when the door opened. Another male Transformer walked into the room and grabbed Red by his shoulder, giving him a shake.

"Slag off," Red muttered, ignoring the other one's goading and shrugging off his hand.

"Man, come on! We have a mission in about an hour!"

"Just lemme sleep..."

The one who was awake looked about the room. Empty containers of High-Grade Energon were strewn about, and nothing was in order. Shifting his gaze back on his brother, he snorted. "Up drinking again? And the night before a mission..."

"Shut it, Ratchet." Red mumbled again, not lifting his head. "You were up drinking too."

"But dude, not _half_ as much as you. Here," The slightly older mech said, taking a container of the Transformer equivalent to human coffee. "This'll get you up."

The young mech known as Red-Alert rolled slowly onto his back, keeping a hand on his head, his optics still a bit dim. "That stuff's nasty though..."

"You want a hangover on the battlefield? Drink it." His older brother, Ratchet, ordered. "_Now_."

"Fine," The younger one conceded, sitting up just as sluggishly. He took one swig, and grimaced. "Slagging nasty..."

"But it sure as hell takes the edge off of that hangover," Ratchet pointed out flatly.

Red reluctantly took another gulp, scowling at the taste. "But this stuff _still_ tastes like crap."

Ratchet rolled his optics. "Well if you watched your Energon intake you wouldn't be in this mess. Getting _this_ juiced on a regular basis ain't good for ya, you know."

"What are you, a doctor?" The still slightly hung-over Red mocked.

"I'm gonna be, just as soon as this Minicon War blows over. Like you _should_ be."

"Me? A doc? Bull slag. Trashin' Decepticons is _so_ much more fun," Red stated as he swung his legs over the side of his recharge bed. "That medicine stuff is so pointless."

"'Pointless'? We'd all be dead if not for the medics."

Red-Alert snorted. "Anyone that badly damaged should be deactivated. What's the point if they can't battle?"

Ratchet stared at his brother's lack of compassion and nonexistent value for life. "You still must have a circuit lose. I can't believe you can say something like that! We all need maintenance from time to time."

"I can patch myself up just fine on my own." Red told him matter-of-factly as he stood up, his equilibrium systems wavering, causing the hung-over mech to stumble. Taking one last swig of the Energon Coffee, he tossed the container to the floor and headed to the door. 

"One of these days, Red-Alert. Your life's gonna be in the hands of one of those medics.... maybe then you'll come to your senses."

Red turned back to look into the sky-blue optics of his elder brother. They stood there, bristling for a moment, and then Red turned towards the door again.

"Lets jet. We have a mission, right?"

Ratchet nodded. "Let's move."

TBC

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DMK: So? How wuzzat? Darn... I keep making my chapters shorter and shorter, don't I? Well, I'll try my hardest to make 'em longer, but you can consider this as a bit of a prologue. And yes, I KNOW that I used a G1 Bot's name for Red-Alert's brother!!! (actually, 'Ratchet' was Red-Alert's name in the Japanese verion of Armada..) Sorry to anyone that doesn't like that, but I was drawing a blank when it came to names. Anyway... yeah. I think that's it. Eh, its week three at Grand Island Summer school, two more to go after that... and my sister is back from Florida sooooo.... I won't be on the computer as much. Aside from that, look for ch. 2 as soon as I can get back on. One more note: REVIEW!!!!!!


	2. Moving Out

DMK: I'm baaaaack!! I have a few new faces to introduce, and I'm SORRY that I'm not able to update anything else I've written. I don't stick to one fic until its done... and I find that writing other stories often inspire me to finish others that are in progress. This does have a few references to the game Heavy Metal War, but aside from that, its rather enjoyable.

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Chapter Two

"Ratchet?"

"Here."

"Deltastrike?"

"Present."

"Tomahawk?"

"Yo."

"Red-Alert?"

"What's up?"

"Good. That's all of you," Their team leader stated as he entered the names of those present. The mech was named Kronos. He was a 'bot of considerable age, who had lived through many wars and battles in his day, and much more experienced than the four youngsters he was commanding.

"So what are we here for?" Red-Alert asked impatiently. "It's about slagging time I got to kill a few 'cons."

He was met by a glare from Kronos, who cleared his throat and spoke to them all. "You four have been given the order to proceed out to Grid Sector 18254 and prevent a Decepticon ambush. There is a squadron out there that has been damaged and are unable to return for the time being."

"So what your saying is that there are a bunch of dying guys we're supposed to watch out for?" Red was silenced by a jab to his chest from his brother.

Kronos glared at him again. "In blatant terms, yes. But do NOT take this mission lightly. The medics are busy repairing all of the soldiers out there. Until they can function, you four are to help keep any and all Decepticons at bay."

__

Mother slagging hell, Red thought to himself. _This is the LAST thing I wanted to get stuck doing. Now I have to defend a bunch of invalids. No real battle, nothing. Slaggit. I say, if they can't fight, they're not worth saving. Only the real warriors survive that kinda stuff._

Red hated the weak. He hated those who couldn't battle. He naturally felt that those who were weak or unable to battle were as good as dead. They 'got in _his_ way', after all. He had absolutely NO respect for those who gave up their lives fighting, nor for medics. That's another thing he hated. Medicine. Saving the weak was just as pointless.

"We'll move out immediately," Ratchet told his leader finally.

Kronos nodded. "Good. You have five minutes to prepare your weapons and yourselves, and then you're out of here."

The four mechs saluted their commander and left to gather their weapons. As they walked back, Tomahawk looked at Red-Alert out of the corner of his optics. "Yo Red, what's your problem?"

"This slagging mission, that's what," he snapped, not looking at his comrade. 

'Hawk sighed, already knowing his friend's attitude. "Why is it that you DON'T care? What's wrong with medics and saving lives?"

"I told ya before, because it's pointless. All I care about in my life is partying and trashing 'cons."

"What about after the war?"

"Don't plan on bein' here that long," Red told his friend absently. "I figure, if this war keeps going on, I'll be gone before it's over."

'Hawk's reaction was incredulous. "What?! You just _plan_ on throwin' your life away?!"

"Jeez calm down," The laid-back Red-Alert told him. "Life's cheap."

His friend growled low in his throat and proceeded to his quarters to get his most trusted weapon. In about five minutes' time, all of Red's team had been assembled in the dry dock and were moving out.

It was a long ride there.

As per usual, Red-Alert had decided to sleep. The youth really and truly didn't care, and instead of preparing himself, spaced out. When the aircraft landed, they met up with several other teams who had been sent on this same mission, and then they entered the makeshift base and med bay.

There was stretcher after stretcher of wounded warriors. A few were already dying, and there seemed to be only three or so medics to tend to them all. It made Red angry, but the sight of so many wounded also triggered another emotion that he had fought to forget: compassion.

One of the healthier mechs strode up to them. Instantly Red-Alert recognized him as one of the teachers at the military academy. He'd even taught Optimus Prime, it was rumored. "Ah, it's good to see you, team RX-0346. From our surveillance and our intelligence gathering, it's been determined that the Decepticon fleet sent to ambush us will strike within the next few days. You must all be on guard."

Ratchet, their team leader, nodded in acknowledgement. "We will be ready when they strike." He then looked to all of the fallen Autobots. "Do you need any sort of medical aid?"

The tall mech sighed and nodded wearily. "Yes. There's too few medics and too many wounded. Any help would be appreciated."

Almost instantly, Red watched his brother begin to tend to other injured Transformers. The makeshift bunker they were all situated in didn't keep out the sweltering heat, and the arrogant mech soon became irritated.

"Primus above... this is SO a waste of my time..."

Tomahawk was about to counter his friend's nonchalancy when an alarm blared. It was an emergency signal, too. Over the P.A system came a voice, "CODE RED! DECEPTICON AMBUSH ON THE BASE! ALL UNITS ARE TO ENGAGE THE ENEMY!"

"Well, looks like the D-cons finally decided to make a move," Red said eagerly. "Fine by me."

Red-Alert and his three teammates hurried to the nearest exit. The second they stepped outside, Red felt the sting of laser fire nick his shoulder. It sent a rush of something like adrenaline through his being, and he instantly began to fire on the enemies. There were about twenty or so well armed Decepticons, five of them seekers or other aircraft. From their base, there were sparsely fifteen healthy soldiers.

"Spread out!" Ratchet told them all. "We'll be harder to hit!"

"No need telling _me_ twice!" Red crowed as he transformed and headed away from his team.

Right towards the Decepticons.

TBC

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DMK: CLIFFIE!!! HA!! Well, the next chapter is gonna be the rest of the battle, aaaaaaand, maybe the ending as well. I don't know. As always, REVIEW!!! And be NICE!! Please?


	3. Battle's End

DMK: Dun dun duuuun!!! THREE IS HEEEEEERE!! Dude, I should REALLY be working on my S/School essay based on Black Hawk Down... but I couldn't leave this unfinished!! Here is the climax of the story... and then there will probably be one last chapter after this. Sooooo, enjoy this while you can.

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Chapter Three

"Are you NUTS?!"

"Red! You Afthole! GET BACK HERE!!"

As the gung-ho mech sped toward the Decepticons, one of them fired at his front tire, making him fishtail madly for about twenty feet. Unable to use his vehicle mode, he transformed into his bot mode and was instantly met with heavy fire. One RPG hit him in the left shoulder and exploded, causing him to bellow in utter pain. 

"AHHHH!!" He was sent onto his back from the impact, and could only watch as the number of Autobots on his side began to dwindle.

A red and white seeker, along with a purple, white and gold helicopter, strafed and fired on several of the airborne Autobots. Four of them fell to the ground, either in stasis-lock or the early stages of system failure

That left eleven Autobots, and way too many Decepticons. But suddenly, to his shock, he saw several of the wounded warriors they had been sent to rescue, begin to attack. Nobody asked them to, so why? It was then that he realized the real weakling: himself. But as soon as he had thought the tide would turn, the soldiers began to fall one after the other.

And he was helpless.

Red also watched as his brother began to make repairs on several of those ailing bots. In one hand was a gun, the other was working frantically on healing his comrades.

He heard the rumble of what looked like a tank go barreling past, and as a reflex, he raised his right hand and fired at the back tread.

"AH!" The tank roared. In a second, he had transformed, and was turning his focus on Red-Alert. His optics burned a fiery orange, and in an instant, Red knew who he was.

Megatron.

"HOW DARE YOU!!" He shouted at him. "YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!!!"

Red-Alert rolled onto his left side quickly, ignoring the pain that his arm and shoulder caused him. In one great upheaval, he was standing upright, facing the Decepticon leader.

And, to his utter horror, Megatron powerlinked with a Minicon. At that time, battling a powered-up adversary ultimately resulted in your downfall. The tyrant walked toward him, his legendary scowl visible on his face.

It was then that the young and arrogant mech realized he was doomed. There would be no more jokes, no more battles, no more _anything_. He no longer felt self-centered and battle hungry. He just wanted to get out alive.

Red took a step or two back, wild, animalistic fear shimmering in his ruby-red optics. He didn't want to die. Then again, not many people do.

__

Well if I'm goin' down, I'm goin' down fighting! He resolved in his head.

"Take this, you Decepticon scum!!"

In a split second, he raised his laser cannon, and fired on Megatron. Several rounds made their mark, causing him to stagger backwards, his armor smoking. For a moment, he was optimistic, but when he saw Megatron shrug off the hits like they were nothing, again the fear took hold.

"Is that the best you've got?" He mocked. "If so, you are one _sad_ Autobot."

Megatron's hip-mounted cannon had already swung forward, and was now aimed dead at him. The green and purple 'con grinned malevolently.

"Red-Alert!!"

In a blur of white and red, Ratchet had thrown himself into Megatron, causing the laser missile to hit the ground seemingly inches away from Red's feet. He stared at the gaping hole in the tarmac until the sound of two wrestling Transformers brought him out of his thoughts.

"Get off of me you hunk of scrap!!" Megatron roared, throwing Red-Alert's brother to the hard blacktop, knocking him out.

That was the last straw for Red-Alert. He could do whatever he wanted to him, but nobody got away with messing with his family, _nobody_!

In one last desperate ploy, the teenaged mech bolted straight at the giant Decepticon, hitting him in the face with one of the most spectacular punches he'd ever thrown. It sent Megatron reeling, clutching at his face, and he landed hard on his aft.

__

That's it, he thought. _I'm spent. No more power left._

Red-Alert uttered a prayer to Primus that his hit would be enough, but he looked on in terror as Megatron aimed that damned cannon at him once again.

"You FOOL!! I will make you PAY!!"

But this time, he didn't seem to care if he died. As long as his brother and friends were safe, he could pass on in peace. He hadn't thrown that last punch for himself, it had been for everyone else at the base. Because, in war, nobody fights for themselves: it's for the guy next to you.

BOOM!!

There had been a flash of light, and then everything went black.

TBC

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DMK: ANOTHER cliffie!!! BWAHAHA!! Sorry that these chapters are short, but I SWEAR that 4 will be the last. I know this thing is full of holes, but all four of these chapters were typed at once in about an hour's time.


	4. Aftermath and Resolution

DMK: Ah, the LAST CHAPTER!! Guess you're all happy about that, huh? Weeeeeel, maybe I'll do another one, this time focusing on Optimus' past, where Scavenger supposedly 'taught' him how to fight. Depends on the feedback I get from this one.

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Chapter Four

When Red opened his optics, he found the bright fluroscent operating lights shining down on him. Then, a hazy figure came into view. It was Ratchet.

"Hey bro... you okay?"

He wanted to speak, but his vocal modulator was shot. He tried nodding, but the numbness he had been feeling left his body quickly. Pain washed over him like a suffocating blanket. He shut his optics, squinting them until the pain had passed.

"I'm taking that as a 'no'?"

"... good to see you too... smart-ass..." he choked weakly.

Ratchet grinned. "You've got the devil's luck, you know that? I SWEAR I thought you were as good as scrap after I came to and was briefed about the battle's outcome."

"How many casualties...?"

Ratchet gave a half-laugh. "Not as many as there could have been, dude. Seein' you take on the leader of the Decepticons so selflessly... everyone thinks you're a hero."

"Now THAT'S funny... What the slag happened to me?"

"Look at your arm."

Against the surging pain, Red-Alert turned his head to the left. In place of his arm, there was a weapon. "Ah slagging hell..." he said absently. "...lost my arm."

"Eh, you know it could have been worse. And get this, that thing on your arm is pretty darn powerful with NO recoil. Now you'll have two guns when ya fight."

Red smirked. "Twice the damage... but this thing is only a weapon?"

Ratchet looked at him strangely. "...not really... it can double as a repair tool. If you ever need it, I mean. Knowing how much you hate medicine I doubt that makes any difference..."

"Sure it does... soon as I'm healed, I'm ditchin' this joint... and heading back to the academy."

"What gives?" Ratchet asked him, a quizzical look on his face.

"I should be doin' something important with my life... I sure as hell ain't a good fighter, sooo, I take it medicine is a better choice."

His brother stared. "Ooookay, who are you, and what have you done with my little brother?"

"I'm serious, man!"

Ratchet chuckled. "Well, about slagging time that you came to your senses... Better than throwin' your life away like it was trash, that's for sure. But man, aren't you freaked about your arm?"

"A bit, yeah, but there's something way more important that I've learned today."

"What?"

"All life is precious."

END

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DMK: *throws confetti* YAAAAYYY!! I actually FINISHED a STORY!!! I FEEL ALL SPECIAL!!! ^____^ I honestly hope you liked this, I did it off of the top of my head at about 6:30 pm. It's now, what, 7:30? Whew, and I FINISHED IT!!! Well, tell me whatcha think, k? And by the way, the last thing Red-Alert says before the end is his supposed quote. Thought putting that in would be a cool way to end it, you know? Okay, now I'm off to work on my other stories, so uh, bye... yeah. PS: REVIEW!!! (wait... I said that already... ^^')


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